


Confusion

by SrokaZlodziejka



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Death, Demons, F/F, F/M, Fallen Angels, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Pagan Gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrokaZlodziejka/pseuds/SrokaZlodziejka
Summary: The devil is not the only one to offer deals. Angels sin. And Death has an open spot for an assistant. Find your way thru a world where nothing you haw been tough holds up and your own skin isn't yours.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a rather nasty day. From the rainy gray afternoon of a winter morning that doesn't resemble winter at all, more like fall purgatory that refuses to end. Thru a dip in a cold murky lake to deliver divorce papers to a bridzilla whose weeding party had drowned over 200 years ago, on its way to the reception. To the evening when the day finally seam to take a turn for the better, at list temporarily.   
Róża (Rosa) sat in her worn out plush chair, right after a warm batch, tea in hand. Ready to show a middle finger to the world as she watched the few remaining hovers tick off in to oblivion putting an end to this foul 24 hover circle.   
Little did she know a round one, 45 minutes before midnight she would be thrown in to the most dangerous deal of her life.   
Thru the dark , high corridors of the kamienica a shadow skipped and dipped from one dark spot to the second, drawing the attention of all smaller spirits and already sauntering drunk demons that took to remedying there colds whit alcohol. This new visitor was rather bad at hiding if you consider that from below there hood they emitted a soft light nearly instantly giving away there position. Thankfully no dame soul in this place cared enough to comment.   
One wayward soul living on the top floor happen to pay witness to this whole situation from beginning to end. Miss Anna Borska, a formerly inspired writer, for ever stuck on an never ending cigarette brake on the cold dark stair case. Taking a drag of her ethereal cigarette she observed the odd creature observing her.   
‘Well don't mind me. I just live here’ She waved to the intruded whit a smile. Unassured but lacking options, the figure moved forward to the next floor to a set of heavy wooden doors. And my was this visitor tall, there head nearly reached to the half circular window above the door. They knocked once, properly annoying the owner of the house, they knocked twice, sending the owner in to denial, and the third time gating her finally out of her chair, spouting profanity intermingled whit the occasional ‘I'm coming I'm coming’ . The moment the door opens, ayes locked, there fate is sealed . As was the door. Rosa slammed it shut twisting every singular lock and bolt as if it cud do anything, and piling any random piece of furniture set near bay on to it. Repeatedly muttering the words ‘No , no no, fuck no’   
Pity her efforts were for not as the intruder was now siting in the main room cradling a small bundle, partaking in a magically summon second glass of tea.   
‘For fuck sake, demons at list ether to the code and don't enter whit out an invitation, for the supposed ‘Good guys’ you lot seam to wipe your celestial asses whit any, and all established rules.’   
‘The only rules we adhere to mortal are the rules from the creator them self’ Answers the figure in a voice that sounds oddly feminine.   
‘Which is a weary nice way of admitting your all bloody cheaters, that's what you are….but asides from that, you feeling okay Selapiel? For once in your life you sand like ..one thing.’ She added whit a ting of worry right beneath her anger.   
‘Forgive me, ill be going back to normal in a few minuted...I'm just resting after giving birth.’   
‘..The fuck did you just say?!’  
‘Language! There is a child here and its awake’ The visitor pools down her hood and reveled a vaguely humanoid face that seamed all to perfect, lacking blemishes, devoid of characteristic that cud key one in to any specific gender, and a set of sharp now flexed down horns.  
What not many in the world know a bout angels true preferences , they carry themselves bipedali, and grove to rather impressive heights. From a distance they cud be confused whit humans especially when they try there usual tricks, but humans they were most definitely not. There feathery lot came in all shapes and sizes uniformly hawing only the wings as a common factor. Beyond that they cud look completely human or more like an animal..or an abstract work of art made out of scrap metal scavenge from a ditch next to a main road. In fact the weary commonly beloved to exist Sasquatch is nothing more than a documented rather unfortunate meting between an angel and a murky stinking pond. If mortals nowadays think getting there most embarrassing moments in life is blasted all over the world is bad, perhaps the knowledge that somebodies bad day, can become an intricate part of botch ancient and modern history would give them some perspective. 

Unperturbed by the concept of personal space rose approached the angel to take a closer look at a baby whit oddly enough dark hair and far more human features than not, asides from fur on her slightly smaller than average nose.   
‘Nephilm?’ She asked worriedly.   
‘No, it's not half human ‘ Selapiel moved the material to revel slightly pointed ears. Rosa glanced at there smiling face .  
‘Well for a master of choir boys you seam to haw a few kings in you.’ She commented ‘ Elf's aren't for everyone.’   
‘ Don't compere HIM whit the rest of that derange asylum . HE was special...different. Better’   
‘Spoken like a true human teenager’ Rose roles her ayes’ It's still a half bread, how is it swallow boys haven't laid there spear to it yet?’   
‘...That's not relay important, what important it, I come to you whit a..’  
‘A holly mission of grate importance, concerning..’Rosa threw her arms up chanting the pompous drill even Gabriel couldn't deliver whit out a yawn.   
‘Whit a plea for help Rosa...as a mother to another..’   
‘..oh..oh dear...ehem..almost called out for the wrong person there, ...you are going completely of the script aren't you Sel? You want to hide an unsanctioned mix? ‘  
‘Yeh..and I want to hide it so well..nobody ever finds it until the end of days. If I do it, they will eventually trace her.’   
‘Oh ? Like they might trace you to my house?’  
‘You are not under out jurisdiction ..or observation , and considering your 'talent' there is literally nothing they can do to get that information out of you unless..well unless you jump ships again.’   
‘Thanks but no. Iw made my decision I'm sticking by it. ‘  
‘Well your fist decision was to be on our side. Switching to theirs makes you a traitor.’  
‘I don't consider not adhering to a choice I didn't make to be betrayal.’   
Rosa crossed her arms angrily. But yes. Selapiel was right no angel cud do match to her whit out risking the delicate balance the ruling goods had. You see while the goods had there small spats, court coops and constant palace intrigues, there was a cast of gods shunned by everyone , but needed like the air itself, and completely above all conflicts. They were closer to mortals than there immortal families due to there line of work. They were gods of death. The only celestial beings that ever shook hands whit the human loot on a daily basis, asides from torrid romances, and occasional bouts of prophecies. They were the unmistakable emo weirdos of the family nobody relay wanted at the thanksgiving table. Frankly they often chose to skip out on those events on there own. Mortals were so match more interesting than endless happiness and glee. That is not to say Rosa herself as death, no she was something slightly adjoining to the topic but not THE anything. She was a silence keeper or a silent one as they like to cal them. See while the population of humans skyrocket, the substantial advent of technology, and modern medicine, the amount of deaths in the world did not. And since they were the only ones to ever do any actual hands on work they found themselves in a rather critical situation where the gods of death had a quite literal craving to droop dead from exhaustion. They cud no longer mingle, and establish connections whit mortals witch made there reputation fall face flat like a drunk behind a tavern. So it was decided one day that every death had the right to cultivate there own family line. Whether that line was a literal blood inheritance like it was for the Greeks and Romans, or more of an adoption / blessing to mortals of the right persuasion was left to the discussion of the death god in question. Now you might be interest to how the rest of the goods reacted to south a development. They were quite cordial and apologetic they didn't address the problem before hand, but only after a year long strike on the deaths part where nobody died throwing the natural order in to chaos, sadly that strike had to be offset whit an explosion of an unnatural brutal disease to curb the surplus in a repetitively short time, but eventually everything evens out and deaths cud priced on there marry way doing what they did the way the dreamed fit. They still get quite the chuckle out of watching old Dance macabre paintings , perhaps the only remnant of that chaotic year and listening to the logical interpretations of humans.   
But back to the point Rosa was a blessed adopted servant of Marzanna a slavic goddess. As any child of death , weary few were dumb enough to fuck whit her. But sadly every idiot in there mothers womb seemed to knew she had the best chances of hiding something, and derailing a celestial plan. Not that Selapiel was an idiot, do considering they started a relationship to end whit a child whit one of the most insane immortal races was worrying. Still there was quite literally no problem whit out a solution and a solution to this one was quite simple do it came at a great personal price. One that almost had Rosa feeling bad for asking for actual payment. Almost.  
‘Well if I hide it, you do realize you wont see them ever again. Right? ‘  
‘When she dies I ...’  
‘No Selapiel, if she is to stay hidden she wont be Christensen, ever..shes not getting in to heaven’ Rosa reminded the angel who instinctively squeezed the child to there chest in a protective fashion.  
‘Why would you say that?’  
‘Look past the propaganda in your brain Sel...it can't be Christensen, if it is, they will be entered in to the book of names, and boss man will know . The kid wont get an afterlife, like the nephilmes didn't get one..and you will be send careening down on your pretty face right in to a black lake and straight in to hell. You know I'm right’  
Selapiel gave a distressed sound.  
‘Look...you came to me, knowing I can do it. And whit out modesty I can. I can hide a small baby shaped needle in the giant haystack of humanity. But doing it means cutting all ties for the kid. ALL of them’   
‘So I wont ever see them again?’  
‘Hopefully not. ‘   
‘ What a bout the other half of her bloodline? If they find it...i mean, there manipulative and derange at best, they cud hurt ...’  
‘Not more so than you guys id like to point out, but her other half is the key to what I can do..elf's are distant cousins to humans, that will make giving her a human skin easy. And then we just..drop her off on the territory of somebody that doesn't geel well whit elf's. Forbidden territory‘  
‘Will you keep an aye out for it do? Just so there safe?’  
‘Fuck no, are you listening to me Sel? We haw to cut all ties whit the kid , or ells they will find them..if they want to find them that is. And you know Reguel has a hard one for hunts’  
‘Id appreciate if you didn't speak of my siblings like that’   
‘I appreciate that you appreciate it, but I'm not going to curb my language in my ow house so you can deal whit it or look for a more cultured death to take this assignment on...if you haw the time to spear that is. ‘ Rose made a sweeping gesture pointing towards the door. At the beginning of her mortal life she was born at the tail end of the 18 century. Raised to be prim and proper , she truly despised unnecessary pleasantries, and whit the upcoming years developed an extensive vocabulary of curs words that made many a sailor, and veteran prostitute amazed . It also made most angels wings curl up in on themselves .   
Selapiel was distraught for the first time since his creation, for reasons that were purely personal. Angels by no means were allowed to haw there own emotions nor personal problems. It distracted from the greater plan. Anything 'personal' was considered a first step to hell. But as they gazed at the bright ayes of there child they felt an odd type of peace, quite different from the heavenly state of not thinking. It was a type of peace that came from accepting your own misgivings, being ready to take on what ever the world had to throw at you, for somebody ells. Not for a grand plan so far of in to the future you cant possible comprehend its true importance. But for something small, frail and week that will survive to haw a life thanks to your hart brake and sacrifice. Selapiel would carry the memory of that infant smiling thru out eternity as a shield, and a lamp in there darkest time. All that pompous self realization do, made it not even a bit easier to hand over the bundle to the mortal woman.   
‘Don't blame yourself Sel, iw been here..no amount of time to say good bay is enough, best to do it quick and leave before you change your reasonable decision to something foolish that will kill you botch.’ Rosa outstretched her hand, and whit a bit of hesitance Selapiel uncuffed a golden necklace from around there neck and drooped it in to her waiting hand. As the gold hit the open palm, they stood up rigid, wings on full display.  
‘Thank you for your service silent one’ They utter disappearing whit a flash of light that blinded the all too mortal ayes of Rosa and caused the child to scream bloody murder.   
‘Oh for...what the hell did I get my self in to...’


	2. Chapter 2

Rosa was by no means a fan of hospitals, she had the same ambivalent relationship whit them the overworked staff had. If anything she believed herself to be in the same boat as them and the underpaid teachers. Except while they were on a boat she was a free lancer, witch might as well put her in child floater . Only upside was unlike the first two she cud be in that miserable floater whit her ass dipped in cold water holding a scotch on the rocks. Still Rose was in the ER at midnight right now. As she entered the lobby she mutters ‘Miedza’, and whit that her whole body suddenly became horizontal before flipping back to an upright position , seemingly in the same eery quiet hospital room she was in moments again. But there were small discrepancies here and there. The above light was cold blue instead of neon yellow, the waiting chairs in the lobby weren't occupied by random drunks, and unfortunate children that decided to stuff something that should not be stuffed anywhere, up there nostrils. The doctor behind the call desk was quite obviously dead , flirting whit an equally frigid nurse.  
‘Ah miss's Rosa, how nice...what can we help whit today?’ The man greened spreading his arms. While the Hippocratic oath prevented medical personnel even in death, from being harmful to the living it did not stop them from starting a side business dealing whit what ever was dead and in there care. No sort of deal protected the unclaimed body in the morgue . Lucrative business indeed, as it turned out there was always something that needed a new skin. The hospital took no responsibility for deals voided by vicars burring the unclaimed but sold body in holly ground.   
‘Well I need to make a changeling Darek’ She announced, and the doctor froze, while the nurse stretched out her long neck whit a visible string of finger shaped bruising to see the bundle in her arms.  
‘Oh my can I see? It's been ages since I saw a live infant’   
‘Yeh yeh, if you promise to not loose it you can even hold it while I discus things whit the dock’ She gave the bundle up to the pale nurse, it fleet like a weight has bean lifted. She relay had not motherly inclinations to kids . The nurse on the other hand seamed to quite literally 'come to life' whit the infant in her hands. Turning her ayes to the doctor that was eying a quick exit route, she placed a firm grip on his could shoulder.   
‘Now then, lets go to your office and talk, ye?’ 

The doctors room was a replica of what he had in life, a few medical posters, a lot of equipment that went out of service over a decade a go, and oddly enough a flat screen tv and a radio. His examination bed was turned in to a pillowed covered , silk monstrosity of a love bed. Years of medical school, and money cud not buy good teats as it seamed. All in all quite an interesting bachelor pad.   
‘Rosa, I know you, you know me..and we botch know I can't ...i can't help you whit making a changeling.’  
‘Darek I'm aware of your limitation, and I know what you'd loose if you'd brake the oath...so all I'm asking is information, the rest I take on to myself’   
‘There is no unclaimed infant corpses in my hospital, I cud get in contact whit other felicities but that would take time..’  
‘I'm not interested in dead kids ..you know that.’   
‘I'm not selling you a live one...’  
‘Start listening to me, I don't want you to sell me one...i need you to point me in the direction of one that will die within the next 24 h...hopefully one whit parents that wont question a miracle ‘   
Darek huffed and went over to an old medical cabinet, the shelf popes open whit a screech and outstretched , distorting the room whit itself stretching for miles. Reality in the 'in between' was malleable like putty, it adapted to what happened to it. Searching thru the data whit his thin fingers barely grazing the papers like a veteran spider treading it own web, he puled out a seemingly new folder before snapping his fingers, and hawing the drawer close whit a snap. Making the room return to normal so fast it gave you a seance of whiplash.   
‘We haw one...shes not dead, per request...she might not die do...but her chances are slim. The next 24 h will be crucial’ He pointed to an embarrassing pink hart chair in front of his desk as he himself, sat in a warm plushy chair. Rosa sat down carefully , puling out a lacy thong out from between the decorative pillows by the tip of her nail.  
‘I'm deceased, not dead’ Remarked the doctor taking the article of clothing, and hiding it between the cushions under his own elbow. ‘Any way, kids not baptised, witch is a big for you guys, but cps is already putting a hand on them, Caucasian girl, malnourished , severe poisoning whit a malformed hart artery. Her chances are not looking good, and if I'm honest...whit her mothers file, might be better if she doesn't survive...er not that I'm endorsing anything.’   
‘Don't worry I know what you mean...mm..so her mom is a drug addict?’  
‘Ah..from my inlet, not relay a heavy drug user..she is just...extremely...whats the word I'm looking for..dumb.’  
‘So shes, on the spectrum?’  
‘Oh no, no, shes just...Dumb, whit a capital D. gullible to a fault, head in the clouds, hippy as you can get. The reason her kid is in this state is because her ‘holistic doctor'...’ Darek made a face like somebody just asked him to lick a lollipop that was found on the floor of a metro men's toilet ‘...advice her to do self pain medication before the birth. Frankly iw seen her, she seams lovely..but as I said, she is dumb as a brick, and the mere mention you might haw authority in something will make her believe you. ‘   
‘Mm… if we were talking a bout a car , id say your trying to sell me a utter wreck. ‘  
‘I'm not selling you a car, I'm sealing you a coffin on wheels for insurance purposes ‘ He remarked, and Rosa huffed whit laughter.  
‘Fair enough...don't suppose you haw anything else?’  
‘Fortunately no. this isn't the capital darling, we don't get that much drama here.’   
‘Very well...miss..Karolina C it is then….may fate role the dice and the best of us win’ Announced Rosa taking the folder in to her hands. The doctor had the decency to smile in a sour manner.

Unfortunately for little Miss Karoline, fate did not role in here favor, whit the stroke of midnight her littel malformed hart decided to stop working. Thanks to quick working from the 'midnight staff' who owed a few favors an alarm cud be avoided before a proper switch cud take place. Rosa left the hospital whit two children that night , a perfectly alive half bread and a perfectly dead husk of a human. The road took her to the burned out ruins of an ancient strong hold, chalk white stone walls sticking out of the side of a small hill . You cud see shadows of long gone guards standing it wait, in what was left of windows, court ladies dancing in the moon light to an ethereal song only they cud hear, and filthy bests of a pre christian persuasion sniffing a bout in the form of black dogs whit curious red ayes. Ears twitching as they sensed somebody approaching.  
Exiting her small read car right as the wheels grinned to a hold on the gravely road Rosa motioned a greeting to the shadow guards, and petted one of the hellish dogs that came near, undoubtedly enticed by the smell of death, and fresh flesh.   
‘Not today boy, not today’ She petted his head as the dog gave a disappointed whine. In the middle of the courtyard, strode an old rickety cradle that has rocked exactly 774 children making the newest occupant number 775 . A lot of mortals might thing the most enchanted numbers are the dreaded 666, or the lesser known but more pleasant 777, but tows people neglect to remember there is a whole slurry of number in between them and 0 . 775 was a weary specific number needed for this ritual, a number capable of bending reality, and giving new perspective. Frankly nobody would dear to put a living child in this eaten thru by termites husk of a cradle scrunch up from heavens know where, held together by literal barb wire and duck tape. But it was either that or there would be two dead children by then end of that night so safety requirements be dame. One of the hell hounds that sniffed Rosa previously went up to the crib, and smelled the earthy dark soil inside of it, sneezing. It was a mix of holly ground whit soil from inside of a good home. It reeking of humans, and there life.   
‘Don't sneeze at it, it might as well fall apart from a gust ow wind, and if it dose I'm screwed’ Rosa reprimanded the dog, lain down the living baby in the soil inside the crib. Weary carefully planting it's body in soil up to the tip of its nose and round its ayes, sprinkling a bit of soil on both . When the infant was all but buried alive she took the dead baby out of a bag and looked at the dog that gazed at her questioningly.   
‘Don't judge me, she has no use for mortal blood anymore, and whit this ritual, a woman will get her child back tonight and a kid will get a chance to live...I'm doing a good thing.’ She finished. The dog just huffed, and started to walk off.  
‘What ever helps you mortals sleep at night’ It muttered prancing away. It had no interest in a ritual that wouldn't end whit a snack. 

Stalin once said, to kill a single person is a tragedy, to kill a thousand is statistic. For Rosa doing things commonly viewed as reprehensible was no longer a solitary thing it was statistic. So to the disappointment of the black dog, she did not loose any sleep that nor any other night. And once the passing of the child was done Rose quite gladly removed any remnant of its existence from her mind for the next few years

\----

A a smell of ozone saturated the chamber a lit whit harts neon light, blacks, reds and deep purples crowded the walls in short bursts making the wold pulsate like a living fleshy rib cage .  
Music was blaring whit a chaotic savage beat. The kind that defense all individual toughs, and ideas in ones head, sinks up whit there hart until it on the brink of exhaustion trying to follow this wild cacophony.   
It was the music that drove adrenaline, and blood in the mob down below , hands raised, bodies crowding round a neon screen. Frothing at the mouth, crying do not knowing why and blood trickling out of weaker orifices . They crowded the main scene , mindless voices , from hallow minds giving praise to the naked neon god before them. 

She strode there bathed in the same pulsating light that made the chamber quiver, and pulsate , dressed only in indifference towards her acolytes . Hands caste downward towards the crowd , beckoning , her body expresses all that one would consider sexually appealing, and vulgar at the same time. Her face has no mouth but a single duel sets of black ayes whit neon red shining pupils. 

For a split second the music stops , a warm golden light bathes the room mixed whit a virgin baby blue tint towards the bottom of the floor. Her body is reveled to be of the most innocent inhuman pale colors , white hair that slowly turning blue towards the ends going past her shapely hips. Neon ayes now blazing a cold static blue.

The crowd recoils for a moment as if every individual was suddenly struck by an invisible blow to the face. Blood seeps from there ayes , noses, and in some instances ears, as there bodies go in to a state of shock. Something within them is puled in to the light that animates from this figure.

She raises her hands towards the heavens, and speaks but one commandment.Whit a voice akin to silver bells, whit an ever so faint distortion behind them, like static captured on the end of an recording. 

'Feast’ 

Just like that the, red pulsation of flash returns guided by a different more Manic tune , and the whole of the chamber falls in to chaos as each, and every member turns towards the nearest person to them and proceeds to pounce whit not only the pure intent to kill but to devour. One that can only be matched by the person that is currently eating them.

There is no pain, no regret, no tough, and no mercy.

In the name of there new Neon god, they will feast. 

And the feast shall last until there is only one gluttons soul left that will eat itself to death singing her praise whit every bite.


End file.
